


Silence Is The Most Powerful Scream

by Bluejay20



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Panic Attacks, Sad Lance (Voltron), Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluejay20/pseuds/Bluejay20
Summary: They say silence is the most powerful scream.For who could ignore a person who’s sitting near a window shunning the world. A mouth that was usually open and bubbly, now closed and pressed in a thin line. No one in their right mind could ignore a silent soul, begging to be saved. It was difficult.Or so, he thought.Apparently it was easier than he expected.-In which Lance is breaking, and his team doesn't notice.





	Silence Is The Most Powerful Scream

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Brief references to suicide, some self harm (scratching), and a slight description of a panic attack.

They say silence is the most powerful scream. 

For who could ignore a person who’s sitting near a window shunning the world. A mouth that was usually open and bubbly, now closed and pressed in a thin line. No one in their right mind could ignore a silent soul, begging to be saved. It was difficult. 

Or so, he thought. 

Apparently it was easier than he expected. 

For here he was, staring out the window at the millions of stars that scattered the dark space they floated in. His legs were pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around them protectively as if he was trying to hold his emotions together through physical touch.

Regardless, his silence contrasted harshly against the screaming and shouting of joy that was happening not even a few feet away from him. He was black and white, and the others in the room? Bright, vivid colors. As if the painter got bored midway through, taking so much time on his friends he left no paint for the silent soul in the corner.

Who would pay attention to him? 

Who would ask how he was? 

Who cared about him? 

No one loved him. 

Lance McClain was nothing. 

Lance felt newfound tears well up in his eyes, and subconsciously he found himself gripping his forearm tightly with his nails. He shut his eyes, now noticing the tears slipping past and dripping down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop them. 

They continued to flow like rainfall, they burned as his tears reminded him how absolutely pathetic he was. Disgusting, useless, worthless.

Better off dead. 

Lance reluctantly brought his hands away from where they were gripping his arm to brush them gently across his cheeks and eyes attempting to wipe away the tears. Subtly, he shifted in his seat to face closer to the window, and away from his friends who were continuing to not notice his mental breakdown in the corner of the room. 

Burying his face into his knees, he returned his hands to their position on his arms. Digging his nails into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down till they met his elbows leaving fiery, angry red welts in its wake. He continued the ministrations, till his arms burned from scratch marks but his mind had cleared. His breathing had calmed. He felt better. 

At least for a little bit. 

For a few moments before everything came crashing down again, the thoughts that couldn’t be satisfied and lingered around, his feelings of helplessness and the feeling of worthlessness. Everything, it fell upon him and he was suffocating. This time, he allowed the choke sobe to break past his lips and he freely allowed the tears to slip past his eyes. 

His hands continued on their own accord, perhaps attempting to scratch out whatever demon was festering inside of him. To sedate his mind into a calmed down state, if only for a couple of moments. 

He only needed a couple of moments to breathe. 

To in his own mind, he didn’t hear someone approach him with soft footsteps. Nor did he hear the rest of the room quiet down to barely a whisper. He didn’t notice the eyes that were on him as he shook in his spot. 

“Hey, Lance,” 

Lance could tell it was Hunk. His voice was quiet, soft and low. It wavered slightly near the end of his greeting, and Lance held no doubt that he was gazing upon him with wide sad eyes. For how could he have gotten this bad without anyone noticing? When did Lance relapse to his former self he promised he shut away for as long as he lived? 

Feeling a large hand clasped over each of his, he looked up and his bloodshot, tear filled eyes met Hunk’s heartbroken gaze. He allowed Hunk to gently remove his hands from his arms, and he noticed that Hunk’s eyes were resting on his reddened skin. 

Taking a seat opposite of Lance, Hunk held his hands firmly with his. Staring straight into Lance’s eyes, scanning for an answer or a cause. But Lance didn’t return the gaze, quickly he looked away, only to meet the concerned gaze of Pidge. 

She had moved to stand beside him, her fingers came up to his cheeks before stopping right before the pads of her fingers touched his skin. 

“Uh, can I?” she asked, gently. 

Lance granted her permission in the form of a soft murmur, and he felt her thumb wipe away the stray tears that were on his cheeks. Bringing the other hand to do the same with the other side. Once she was done, she retracted her hands and Hunk used this time to speak. 

“What’s the matter, Lance?” 

Lance merely looked away again, this time making sure to avoid everyone’s gaze although. Seeking a safe haven by staring at the stars, ignoring the concerned gaze of everyone around him. 

“Lance tell us what is going on,” 

Shiro. He was getting closer, taking large and heavy strides till he stood right next to Pidge. 

“We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong,”

Lance whispered, “You didn’t care then, why not?” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow at the teenager, a displeased frown on his face.

“What was that?” 

An audible groan escaped from Lance’s mouth, but he didn’t dare say what he said. He simply gripped Hunk’s hands tightly within his own, so tight he was positive it could hurt. However, Hunk didn’t vocalize this, he just allowed it to happen. 

“Nothing,” Lance finally said. 

“Bullshit,” 

Keith. His voice was rough and unmistakable. 

Lance glared, “I’m. Fine,” 

His voice cracked near the end, causing everyone’s eyes to narrow dangerously at him. 

“You’re not, Lance,” Pidge’s whisper caught him off guard, her gaze was lowered and she was clearly upset. “You can trust us,” 

“Pidge is right,” Shiro agreed, coming to a kneeling position so he could be eye level with Lance. “Please tell us,” 

“We’re here for you,” Hunk murmured, bringing Lance’s hands to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on them. 

The action caused Lance to let out another choked sob, feeling another wave of tears coming on. 

“Tell us,” 

Lance jerked up to see Keith now standing beside Pidge, his arms crossed over his chest like always however he could see his eyes full of concern and the corner of his lips turned down into a slight frown. 

“It's not important,” 

And here he is, the attention he desperately wanted only to shut it down without a second thought. Because they didn’t really care about him, they felt obligated to help him. They didn’t want to help him, they were forced to. 

“You’ve been sulking here for the past three hours, not moving. And when we turn back around you’re crying, clawing your arm off and now you're trying to tell us you are okay,” Keith’s voice raised slightly with every word, only to die off quietly when Shiro raised a hand to silence him. 

“Listen Lance,” Shiro sighed, shaking his head softly, “You don’t have to tell us, but we really do want to help you,” 

And after that silence descended onto the five. It wasn’t welcoming, it was deafening. 

Silence is the most powerful scream. 

And all of them can hear it brutally. 

After what felt like an eternity Lance finally sobbed, ripping his hands away from Hunk’s to wrap them comforting around his legs again, hugging himself. His fingers almost returned to clawing haphazardly at his skin, until Pidge gently put her her on his shoulder reminding him that they’re here with him. 

They’re not ignoring him.

They’re not laughing at his pain. 

They’re right next to him. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Lance finally admitted softly, so soft that the others basically had to hold their breath so they could hear what he was saying. “I don’t feel...good enough…Edgy, wow,” he joked gently, bringing his hands to rub against his face, “You don’t need me…” 

“Wait no, let me stop you there,” Pidge cut off, “We do need you. Why do you think that we don’t?” 

And Lance didn’t respond, so Pidge continued talking. 

“Exactly, there’s no logical reasoning is there,” 

He was greeted with another silence after her statement, in which Keith groaned at. 

“Hey c’mon, there’s no use talking about this now when Lance can’t even think straight,” 

Despite the harsh sounding words, Keith’s voice was filled with nothing but concern. But he was correct, Lance was panicky and didn’t look in the mood to talk. 

Hunk hummed an agreement. Standing up, he gently stepped in front of Lance’s sitting form to wrap him up in his arms and lift him carefully. 

Lance didn’t seem to mind being lifted, only a slight gasp of surprise was emitted from him. “What are you doing?” 

Pidge answered for Hunk, “What? Do you think we’re going to let you be alone right now. Uh uh. No way,” 

The group carefully stepped over towards the center of the room where they previously were, this time with Lance. Hunk sat down with Lance sitting in his lap, and Lance fell unceremoniously backwards so his head was nestled into Pidge’s lap who had taken the seat next to Hunk. Her hands threaded through his brown hair gently, lulling him into soft contentment. Shiro and Keith took the opposite side of the three, sitting down right next to each other. 

Seemingly, the jumped straight back into their previous conversation, as if Lance didn’t have a mental break just minutes before. Shiro was describing something, however everything to Lance seemed like he was underwater. Despite this he heard Pidge’s explanation of what Shiro was talking about. 

“Shiro’s telling us the story of when he almost got kicked out of the Garrison,” 

Lance murmured, “What did he do?” 

“Dunno, hasn’t gotten there yet,” Pidge whispered back, before relaxing back onto the couch. 

Lance found himself relax into Pidge’s relaxing hold, her fingers caressing his head gently. Hunk’s hands found his burning skin and began rubbing them softly, his cool hands were welcoming. When Lance decided to turn his head he locked eyes with Keith, who gave him a small smile in which he tiredly returned. Shifting his gaze, he looked towards his leader. Shiro was still describing the story, however when he caught Lance’s gaze it was frightening how much he was saying with no words

Lance relaxed his head back again, to stare at the ceiling. 

The demon inside him finally sedated, and his friend’s warmth forever keeping it out.

Whatever he was going through, his team was there. His team loved him, his team needed him. Everything inside him could say otherwise, his mind could say otherwise, this demon could say otherwise. But his friend’s said that they loved him, and he decided it was best to believe them then to believe his mind. 

Silence is the most powerful scream, they say. 

And Lance is grateful that his team heard his.


End file.
